Week 26: The Seventh Seal
-The game of a lifetime.
Several weeks ago, I reviewed Errol Morris’s Gates of Heaven. In my essay, I wrote that the “big” questions that we ask- the existential ones- are our lowest common denominator. After careful consideration I have determined that I was wrong. Actually, our lowest common denominator is death itself. It’s the one thing in this world that is completely and universally inevitable to every living thing on earth. It is with this realization I re-watched Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal in awe. Bergman gets it.
In most of our lives we go through times where we are riddled with doubt and uncertainty, specifically regarding the nature and silence of God. Some come to the conclusion that there is no God, others embrace the questions as necessary obstacles that serve to challenge their own faith. Bergman is interested in these questions, and the way they can fundamentally alter human behavior. With the exception of his comedies, every single film he has made (from The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries, to pictures like Persona, Through a Glass Darkly, Fanny and Alexander, or his masterpiece, Cries and Whispers) is about the same theme- death, God, and our reaction to them.
I chose to review The Seventh Seal this week because it is certainly the best introduction to Bergman a filmgoer can select. I daresay that someone whom has never seen a Bergman picture before may not fully understand Cries and Whispers or Fanny and Alexander out of the gate. What makes The Seventh Seal so powerful and timeless is its simplicity. It is direct and to the point. While the symbolism of the picture certainly enhances the experience for the viewer, it is not necessary to understand the film’s themes or its message. It’s all right there on the screen. We see the images and hear the characters say exactly what they feel. Many of these feelings we have had on our own, in the middle of the night, while our families are asleep.
The film is more or less about two main issues- the silence of God and our relationship with death. Thus, it is fitting that Death has a speaking part. The story is pretty straightforward. Antonius Block (the great Max Von Sydow) and his squire Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand) have returned from the Crusades to their home nation of Sweden only to find that it has been ravaged by the plague. The film opens with the two men passed out on a rocky beach. An eagle swoops overhead and we hear the narrator speak:
"And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour. And the seven angels which had seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound."
Block awakes to find Death (Bengt Ekerot) waiting for him. Death has come for Block’s soul and Block is ill prepared. He makes a deal with Death; they will play a game of chess. While the game goes on Block will have a reprieve from Death. Should he win, Death cannot come for him; if he loses, Death will take his soul immediately. They begin to play several moves and then Block and Jöns (who cannot see Death) begin to walk through the countryside.
In one of the film’s most poignant scenes, Block and Jöns find a church occupied by a painter (Gunnar Olsson). The painter is drawing caricatures on the wall of people performing the “Dance of Death” with Death himself. Jöns implies that people will simply get angry at the painting- that it is depressing. The painter replies:
“Why should one always make people happy? It might be a good idea to scare them once in a while. A skull is more interesting than a naked woman. If you do scare them, then they will think- and then they’ll become more scared.”
While Jöns speaks to the painter, Block goes into a booth and begins to give his confession. Unbeknownst to him, there is no priest behind the confessional grid- only Death himself. Block tells the “priest” his plan on beating Death at Chess. He will use the Bishop in correlation with the Knight- the Church and the Military combined. Had he learned nothing from the Crusades?
-Death refuses to answer.
More importantly, Block explains to the “priest” his crisis. He wants to know God before he dies. He wants proof. Block prays and prays yet hears no answer.
“I want to confess as best I can, but my heart is void. The void is a mirror. I see my face and feel loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner in my dreams. I want knowledge! Not faith, not assumptions, but knowledge. I want God to stretch out His hand, uncover His face and speak to me. I call out to Him in the darkness. But it's as if no one was there. [If God is not there anymore] Then life is a preposterous horror. No man can live faced with Death, knowing everything's nothingness.”
It is in scenes like this (with the painter and Block in the confessional) that The Seventh Seal is at the apex of its artistry. It is as if Bergman is speaking directly to the audience- our faith is challenged vicariously through Bergman’s. When Death presents himself to Block the knight is horrified. The priest of the church is strangely absent- just like God.
Another story involves a traveling actors guild. The guild is comprised of the actor Jof (Nils Poppe) and his wife, the actress Mia (Bibi Andersson). The two have a small son who is only a baby. It is absolutely intentional that the names Jof and Mary are Swedish renditions of Joesph and Mary. Skat (Erik Strandmark) is the guilds manager. The family is happy in their scenes together, and much emphasis is put on Mia’s beauty by the camera. Legend says that Bergman was in love with the actress Bibi Andersson, and it shows in the way he lights her- she is always beautiful in the picture.
About a fourth into the film the guild will meet up with Block and Jöns. There are other subplots I will not divulge into greatly here, including Block and Jöns speaking to a woman being burned at the stake. Another subplot involves a young girl that Jöns makes his maid, while a final subplot involves a blacksmith named Plog (Åke Fridell) and his wife Lisa (Inga Gill). Lisa has a brief affair with Skat before returning to Plog in fear of her soul. These portions of the film, while exceptional, mainly lengthen the picture and make the group traveling across the countryside larger- which is important to the climax of the story.
Throughout all of the dialogue, the meetings, and the connections, are Block and Death. They continue to play their game of chess. Block confesses to Death that he is mainly using the chess game as a means to extend his life so that he can do one worthwhile thing before he dies. Block also wishes to see his wife, Karin (Inga Landgré) before death as well. Karin is more of a Penelope-like character than anything in the grand story. Death eventually informs Block that at the end of the game he will not only come for him, but all of his companions as well. Block informs Jof and Mia that they must take their baby and flee. He then knocks over all of the chess pieces on the board- giving them time to flee. In doing this, Block sacrifices himself, his wife and his companions, to save the young family. The climax of Block’s life is his sacrifice- and now a family shall live, while he and his own will die. In the films most powerful moment, Block prays to God before Death- “Have mercy on us, because we are small and frightened and ignorant."
-The rain washes...and cleans the salt of their tears from their cheeks
The ending of the film conveys its most important message. Jof and Mia have escaped Death’s clutches and awaken on a beautiful beach. This beach is not rocky, like the one in the beginning of the film, but sandy and white. Jof (who has been able to see Death throughout the picture) looks up at a hillside and sees Death, Block and all of his followers, performing the Dance of Death on the hillside. It is not an embarrassment from God, as the painter suggested, but a beautiful, joyous moment where Death and man become one. The people and Death hold hands on the countryside as if they are equal. Death leads the way to the great beyond- be it nothingness or heaven.
The message of The Seventh Seal is universal. One must embrace Death to conquer it. It puts an emphasis on our deeds while we are here, just like other great films such as Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru. If we live our lives in fear of the unknown we will be sad, scared and helpless. We must do what we can- make the world a better place, and focus on nothing else. The secret of life may be in realizing that there is nothing to fear in the unknown; we must understand the best thing in life is a sense of wonder. We will then greet Death as an old friend- and dance together into the abyss.
Review and Analysis by Shaun Henisey
Cast and Credits:
Antonious Block: Max Von Sydow
Death: Bengt Ekerot
Jof: Nils Poppe
Mia: Bibi Andersson
The Criterion Collection and Svensk Filmindustri present An Ingmar Bergman Film.
Screenplay by Ingmar Bergman, based on his play. Cinematography by Gunnar Fischer. Music by Erik Nordgren
Running Time: 96 Minutes. Black and White. Swedish with English Subtitles. Not Rated: Appropriate for Mature Audiences
Return Wednesday, May 5th, to preview next week's film